


Clean

by anything_for_armin



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Abuse Of Commas And Long Ass Sentences (Sorry About That), Armin Arlert Needs a Hug, Armin Has OCD Tendencies In This, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Guilt, Hurt/Comfort, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, It is now, Murder, Murder Guilt, THIS IS NOT A SHIP POST IN ANY WAY SHAPE OR FORM, Tags Are Hard, is that a thing?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-24 05:20:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30067254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anything_for_armin/pseuds/anything_for_armin
Summary: "Don't do that. You're gonna hurt yourself"It had been three hours. Three hours since his hands had been splattered with blood.Human blood. Armin didn't even know the name of the person he had killed, and he wasn't really sure he even wanted to know, thinking that if he knew anything more about her apart from the fact that she was one of Kennys' soldiers he might just break down.It had been three hours since he'd wiped the blood on his clothes, staining them with deep red. It had been two hours since they'd returned to HQ. It had been one hour since he'd locked himself in the bathroom, the only sounds accompanying him being the constantly running water.You see, Armin was dirty, despite the fact that he'd washed his hands for so long they started to feel numb under the cold water. Armins' hands were dirty with blood. And all he wanted to be clean again. Oh, how he wished to be clean again.!TW FOR SELF-HARMING ACTS (though I'm not sure if it exactly classifies as self-harm... Still, stay safe!) SO PLEASE DON'T READ IF THIS IS A TRIGGERING TOPIC!
Comments: 6
Kudos: 17





	Clean

**Author's Note:**

> !TW FOR SELF-HARMING ACTS (though I'm not sure if it exactly classifies as self-harm... Still, stay safe!) SO PLEASE DON'T READ IF THIS IS A TRIGGERING TOPIC!
> 
> I am experiencing **major** writers' block and I hate it so much. I literally have five drafts and I've rewritten most of them over three times. Ideas for what to write next would be greatly appreciated!
> 
> Please keep in mind I'm in a cramped hospital bed with a tube in my arm so there's probably a shitton of typos in this but whatever. Also, I'm incredibly sleep-deprived so expect absolutely nothing from this.
> 
> !ALSO FOR SOME REASON I FEEL THE NEED TO SAY THIS (yes, again) BUT I DO NOT OWN ATTACK ON TITAN OR ANYTHING RELATED TO IT (apart from this work ofc) I DO NOT OWN ANY OF THE CHARACTERS MENTIONED, AND ALL CREDITS GO TO HAJIME ISAYAMA AND HONESTLY IDK IF I EVEN NEED TO MENTION THIS BUT ALL ANIMATION CREDITS GO TO WIT STUDIO AND MAPPA!

When Armin woke up on the day of the Scouts' mission in Trost, he had absolutely no idea what he was in for. He thought he was well prepared, going over each step countless times in his head, revising each plan they had come up with over and over again until he was too exhausted to even think. Little did he know that not only would he nearly get assaulted that day, he'd also actually kill a person. Yeah, sure, they'd come up with multiple plans, constantly prepared for the worst, but for some reason none of them seemed to fit this situation exactly. They were taken by surprise, something that had cost them lives.

Armin had no idea what was going on, too caught up in the action. His mind was still reeling from the events that had happened in that god-awful shed not even a half hour ago, his eyes still red and blotchy from all the crying. This was incredibly unfortunate, considering they were currently being chased by people with extremely advanced technology who seemed to be the closest thing to assassins he had ever come across. He couldn't afford to get distracted, to be even the slightest bit out of it, but he couldn't really help it, could he?

He stared at the wagon Eren was currently in, horrified to find out that he was unconscious and that one of the enemy soldiers had taken control of it. Out of the corner of his eye he could vaguely see Jean and Mikasa attempting to catch up with it, attempting to get just close enough to grab Eren and Historia and get the hell out of here. This, however, was not as simple as it seems. The wagon was moving incredibly fast. So fast, in fact, that they couldn't quite reach it, even when they went as fast as their gear would let them go. It always seemed to be just a step away, just a little bit out of reach.

Things weren't looking good, everything happening so fast it was all a blur. They were completely overpowered, their own people dropping dead left and right. It seemed that the enemy was used to fighting other people. Somehow even worse though, was the fact that even the Captain was struggling. They were skilled. Really skilled. And intelligent too. Making sure to overwhelm them all at once and make sure that the only person who could save them if needed was unavailable.

Honestly, Armin wasn't really sure how it happened. He remembered calling out to Jean, motioning for him to join him as he put his full strength into catching up with the cart, the speed he was going at making his head spin. He remembered feeling his heart stop as the woman controlling the wagon turned back to them with her gun, pulling the trigger, the bullet just barely missing him as she was shoved to the floor of the cart by someone who'd caught up just in time (was it Levi? Had he managed to deal with the ambush of soldiers coming his way?). He remembered Jeans' blade threatening her, remembered feeling triumph - despite the fact that it was short lasted - because mere moments later she pulled out yet another gun, pointing it right at Jeans' face. Armin wasn't sure what his thought process was, didn't even know if he was still thinking at this point. The only thing he knew was that just as she was about to kill Jean he pulled out one of his blades, the sharp edge dull from use, and pulled it across her throat, just as he'd done to titans multiple times before.

He watched, horrified, as she slumped to the floor, her blood forming a sickly, dark, red pool of liquid on the wood, his actions only registering in his mind few seconds after he'd done it. He took another moment to simply stare at the red liquid splattered across his clothes and on his hands, unbelieving of what he had just done. He, Armin Arlert, had just taken a human life, had just slit someones' throat without even a second thought. He felt sick. Really, really sick. And the jostling of the wagon was most certainly not helping. In his dazed state, he hardly noticed the people pointing guns at them from above, hardly noticed the Captain screaming at them to watch out, only registering his words when he and Jean were suddenly thrown out of the wagon, bullets just barely missing them for the second time today.

Armin was so incredibly distracted, the things that were happening only registered in his mind a few minutes later. _Eren had been captured_. He had killed a person for nothing, he'd had to sit in that shed and hear that man call him nasty names all for nothing. The mission had failed, Eren had been captured, and they still had no idea who the enemy was. He barely caught a glimpse of Mikasa attempting to catch up to them, hearing Levi call out an order to fall back in response.

And so, they retreated, letting the enemy get what they wanted - for now. Armin couldn't help but be disappointed in himself, couldn't help but think that if he wasn't so weak they would've succeeded. If he had gotten himself together and hadn't gotten distracted Eren would be here with them now, and all their efforts, all these deaths, wouldn't have been for nothing. If he had just sucked it up and shoved his stupid emotions aside for a moment he might've been able to steer clear of the gunshots, might've been able to lead the wagon out of Trost and escape back to HQ. But he hadn't done that, and now that the adrenaline had died down quite a bit he was feeling even more nauseous than he had been on that cart.

Next thing he knew, Armin was throwing up, tears making their way down his cheeks for the second time today. He threw up and sobbed, and then did it all again when he thought it had stopped but it really hadn't, Mikasas' hand on his back the only form of comfort he had. He straightened up once he was sure he couldn't possibly have anything left inside him, and practically threw himself onto Mikasa, shoulders still shaking with sobs. "Did-did you feel like this too? W-when you had to protect Eren that day?" he asked, barely getting the words out.

Mikasa only nodded, her eyes welling with tears as well. She couldn't really help but almost cry as well - Eren was off with some unknown people, who were doing god-knows-what to him, and they had no idea where he was or what to do. They did care about him a lot, after all, and just the thought of something happening to him made fear swell in both of their hearts.

Soon enough, the Captain was calling them, telling them they had to get back to HQ and devise a plan. Armin followed Mikasa blindly, his heart still beating incredibly fast and his head spinning as though he was about to pass out.

The ride back to headquarters was horrible, the jostling making him gag with even more nausea if that was even possible, and the empty space where Eren had sat this morning making them all bow their heads in shame. It was silent, no one spoke, the deaths they had suffered today and their failure occupying everyones' thoughts. Armins' thoughts seemed to mostly be occupied with one thing. As much as he cared for Eren and prayed he wasn't currently being tortured or something, he couldn't stop thinking about the fact that he had murdered someone, the images of the girl lying in a pool of her own blood flashing through his memories seemingly every five minutes. This morning, Armin had wished the five-hour ride would go slower, anxiety about the upcoming mission making his stomach feel like there were a million centipedes crawling around inside it. Now, he desperately wished for it to go faster, wanted to get back to HQ as soon as possible and come up with a plan before something horrible happened, wanted a distraction from his thoughts.

And despite the fact that the ride went incredibly slow - so slow, in fact, that Armin thought it might just last forever - they did reach HQ in the end, the Captain ordering them to eat something before telling them to rest, saying that although they may not feel like it, they were exhausted and needed some sleep if they wanted to come up with a proper plan. Armin and Mikasa tried to protest, the rest following suit, but Levi would have none of it, sending them off with a glare.

Armin tried to sleep, he really did, telling himself that if he slept the morning would come faster and he'd be able to finally attempt to guess where Eren was and try and figure out how to get him out of there, but he simply couldn't, tossing and turning until his sheets turned into an uncomfortable ball. His mind was racing, his thoughts giving him no rest, and he felt guilty. He felt so, so guilty. For slaughtering an actual person without even a blink of an eye, for letting them escape with Eren, for somehow screwing up again. The girl he'd killed had a family, might've had siblings, who would never see her again. Because of him. 

He sat up on his bed, his legs dangling off the side, and simply stared. Stared at the hands that had been stained with blood not even a day ago. Stared at the hands of a monster, a failure, a burden. He felt dirty. So, so dirty. His hands felt filthy with the burden of death, his eyes dulling and his shoulders sagging with it. He had to get clean. He simply had to. He'd go insane if he didn't.

Armin then stood up from the bed, and walked out into the hallway, shivering as the cold air hit his skin. The moonlight lit up the halls, and he found his way the the bathrooms quite easily, leaning over the sink to stare at the mirror for just a moment, taking himself in. He'd never be able to look at himself the same ever again, would never be able to look at himself without seeing a horrible horrible person. He turned on the water, watching as it flowed out of the faucet, before he started washing his hands.

Again and again he washed them, scrubbing them clean as if his actions would somehow erase the events of today, the blood that he had shed. Scrubbed them clean as if he'd ever be able to get rid of the burden of murder he was now cursed with carrying for the rest of his life. He scrubbed and scrubbed, his fingernails digging into skin when he felt like it wasn't enough, scratching and scrubbing until his skin turned red and raw. But it still wasn't enough. It wasn't enough. _It wasn't enough_. 

He was still indescribably filthy, still feeling the warm red liquid running down his palms, despite the fact that it had been hours since he'd dragged his blade across her throat. It appeared that memory was a powerful thing indeed, making him feel the dripping of blood against his hands despite the fact that it was long gone. And so he reached over and grabbed one of the rough cloths they'd decided not to use as a towel anymore - simply because it was itchy and hurt quite a lot. He grabbed it and ran it under the water before starting to scrub again, fingernails and rough, sharp movements causing him to hiss at the slight pain, and yet he still kept going. He washed and scrubbed and scratched until his hands went numb and his eyes went dazed, barely even noticing what he was doing anymore as he continued his actions, tears running down his cheeks again. When had he started crying? Why was he even crying? He deserved this, didn't he? Deserved it for being so heartless, deserved to scratch his hands raw until all skin that had made contact with human blood was stripped from him, peeled away as it ran down the sink.

He cried and scrubbed and dug his fingernails even deeper into the cloth, forcing the rough material against his skin again and again and again, drawing blood but not even caring, watching as the water running down the drain turned red. He didn't care. He just wanted to be free. Wanted to be free of this awful feeling. _He wanted to be clean_.

He didn't even notice as the door suddenly swung open, didn't even see anyone come in the bathroom out of the corner of his eye, didn't even notice anyone in the room with him, his tears blurring his vision. He didn't notice anything. That is - until the person spoke:

"Don't do that. You're gonna hurt himself"

Armin jumped a little, not expecting anyone to be in the room with him. Still, he continued, almost laughing at the persons' words. He had obviously already hurt himself, couldn't they see? Could they not see the blood running down the drain? The cloth stained with red? The gashes and scratches and peeling skin, only worsening as his movements became more and more forceful? He didn't even know who was in the bathroom with him, his dazed state distorting the voice and his eyes blurred with tears making it hard to see anything. It was fine though, all he really needed to focus on was scrubbing his hands raw. Making himself clean again.

"Armin, I told you to stop", the person spoke again, grabbing ahold of his wrists and forcing his hands apart with ease. Armin looked up into the eyes of... Captain Levi? What was he doing here? Why did he even care? Still, the sympathetic look he had never seen before in his Captains' eyes made his own widen in shock, dropping the blood-stained towel on the floor and letting his arms fall limp, stopping the struggle against Levis' hands holding them in place that refused to let him scratch at his skin any longer. The Captain stared at him for a second longer, his grey eyes boring into Armins' blue ones, and once he saw that Armin had calmed down, had fallen out of his haze, he let his arms go hesitantly, watching intently in case he were to start again.

When he was sure Armin wouldn't attempt to resume his frantic actions, he led him back over to the sink, running his hands under the water, frowning slightly as Armin hissed in pain as his bleeding gashes came in contact with the water. He hadn't even noticed how much this stung, too caught up in his own thoughts to fully process what he was doing. He then turned the knob on top of the faucet, watching as the water stopped flowing, before grabbing a towel - a soft one this time, made of a much gentler cloth - and starting to gently dab at his small wounds, his frown only deepening as he saw just how much Armin had messed up his hands.

He sighed as he looked up at Armin, moving to put both blood-stained towels in the basket the used for laundry before turning to him once again and muttering a "come with me". When Armin didn't respond, still in shock and in quite a bit of pain, Levi grabbed his wrists again gently, urging him to stand up before pulling him out into the hallway and leading him to his office silently, carefully closing the door behind him.

He motioned for Armin to sit at his desk, and he complied this time, nervously seating himself on one of the dark, wooden chairs. Levi walked over to the cabinet in the corner and rummaged through it for a few minutes before pulling back with a glass vial and what looked an awful lot like a handkerchief. Armin recognized the glass vial immediately, whimpering to himself as he cringed at the thought of the disinfectant being poured over the deep scratches on the back of his hands, causing them to burn even more. Levi leaned over the desk, grabbing his arms and placing them on the table.

"This is going to hurt a bit okay? Though I'm sure it won't hurt an awful lot more than attempting to scrape your own skin off with a towel..." he trailed off, popping the vial open and pouring a decent amount onto the small, thin fabric. Armin nodded, holding them out even more to make it easier for him. Levi looked at him once more before turning his gaze back to his downturned hands, sighing as he began to dab the soaked cloth onto each and every cut, wincing as Armin let out small gasps of pain, trying to fight the urge to wrench his hand out of Levis' grip in order to escape the sting.

"Done" Levi whispered as he set the material and the vial aside, sending another look to Armins' now teary eyes. You see, Armin could handle pain quite well, it was actually a necessity if you wanted to join the Scout regiment, he just cried really easily. It wasn't like he could control it, and it didn't mean he was "sensitive" or "fragile". That's just how he was. He zoned out a little bit, his fingers drawing little shapes on the wood of the table, before the Captain came back again with some bandages, and motioned for him to hold his hands out once again before wrapping the white material around them gently, Armin wincing a little as he tightened them.

Levi walked back to the cabinet after he had finished, taking out two cups and pouring what Armin assumed what tea into each of them, walking back over to the table and sliding one towards him. He sat down, took a drink, and closed his eyes, sighing yet again, before speaking.

"Armin. You're a very intelligent soldier, so I really did expect better from you, expected you not to do something stupid like this, but it appears that there was a miscalculation on my part"

Armins' face fell. He was absolutely sure the Captain was talking about his mistake today during the mission. He should've known - Levi didn't actually care, he just called him in here to scold him.

"I should've noticed how distressed you were after the events of today, should've made sure nothing like this happened, but I didn't. And for that I am incredibly sorry. I've failed you, caused you to resort to such a vile method to... well... I assume you were trying to cleanse yourself of something, am I right?"

Armin was taken aback at his words, had never heard something so considerate fall from his Captains' lips, but as much as he was shocked, he nodded anyways, before mumbling a sentence that Levi barely managed to catch.

"I felt... dirty. The blood on my hands... It's just- it's too much" he whispered, tears making their way down his cheeks again.

"I understand. I understand and I know exactly what you're talking about. In fact, I used to resort to similar methods as well, which is why I really wish I could've caught on earlier. I know how it feels, to have blood on your hands. It's a strange feeling isn't it? Quite a horrible one at that"

Armin nearly gasped at what Levi had just told him. He had done something similar? Had gone through the same thing? Armin shuddered to imagine just what kind of situation had he been put in, a situation where the only option in order to survive was to take anothers' life. Still, he nodded at his words. It was, in fact, a horrible feeling. One of the worst.

"I want to tell you that what you did was admirable. You didn't even hesitate, and while you may think that it makes you a monster, I think it makes you a hero. You saved Jeans' life. He's here now because of you. And I'm sure if I were to call him in here right now he would agree. By the way... It does get easier to deal with over time. The guilt." he continued.

His eyes continued to water at the Captains' words, his tears continuing to fall. He now realized that Levi was right. Armin hadn't had a choice. It was either the girl or Jean, and he was sure beyond a shadow of a doubt that he'd made the right one. Armin wiped away his tears hurriedly, embarrassed that the Captain was seeing him like this. Levi didn't seem to care though, his demeanor not changing in the slightest.

"And one more thing... Jean told me about what happened in the shed" he said hesitantly, as though he was afraid he'd scare Armin off. He paused for a minute before continuing, "are you okay? He didn't... do anything, right?".

Armin shook his head, his tears now falling at an incredulous pace. Next thing he knew, there were arms wrapped around him, and his face was buried in a shirt that smelled of laundry detergent and chemicals. It wasn't exactly unpleasant, but Levi most certainly had absolutely no idea how to physically comfort people and it showed, his entire body growing stiff as he held the blond-haired boy close.

"I'm sorry I let that happen to you under my command. I wasn't expecting it at all and I couldn't have seen it coming. It won't happen again, I promise" he said as he pulled back once Armins' sobs had died down. "Now, drink" he said, looking pointedly at the cup of dark-brown liquid he had laid before him. "You need to rest, and this'll help".

Armin nodded, lifting the small cup up to his lips, still sniffling occasionally as he drank it, his bandaged arms making it a little bit of a challenge. It was actually really nice, despite the fact that it was a little bitter. It was extremely calming, and Eren was right - it really did feel like he was being drugged. He finished the last drops, setting the cup down and standing up.

"Thank you, Captain" he said as he moved to exit the room.

"Arlert. Wait." he heard Levi say from behind him, just as he was about to leave. "You'll sleep in the office tonight, on the couch over there" he said as he pointed toward a light blue couch in the corner of the office. Armin had never noticed it before. Maybe it was new?

"Armin" he was snapped out of his thoughts once again.

"Oh, sorry. Could you repeat that? I zoned out a bit..." he muttered sheepishly.

"I said if you feel like you cannot sleep, or if you feel the urge to hurt yourself like that again, come and get me. I'll be in my room" he pointed to the door at the very back at the office that Armin knew led to the Captains' dorms.

"Okay" Armin nodded.

Levi sighed, pausing a bit before continuing. "Oh, and you're not training tomorrow".

Armins' eyes widened in protest, but a menacing glare shut him up real quick.

"The cuts on the back of your hands are deep. They need to heal, and training will cause them to open up again and possibly scar if you keep it up, what with all the handwork that goes into swinging those blades. You need to heal, working yourself to the point you're so injured you can't even use your hands will help no one, especially not Eren" he said.

"Fine" Armin muttered, still wanting to protest, wanting to train so he could save Eren no matter what obstacles were thrown his way this time.

"Also, come back to my office tomorrow evening so I can disinfect them again. It'll help them heal faster.

This definitely earned a whine from Armin, and another glare from Levi. Sighing, he agreed once again, following Levi as he went to get him a blanket, and settling down on the couch. It was actually quite large, and not uncomfortable like he'd expected it to be, much to his surprise. Once Levi was sure he'd follow his orders and stay in the office, he headed into his own room, though Armin knew he wasn't sleeping because of the small beams of light that shined into the office through the cracks in the door.

Despite the fact that he was in an unknown room, with his hands stinging and his Captain in the next room, he drifted off pretty fast - though I suppose the sleeping liquid and calming tea Levi had mixed into his drink discreetly definitely played a part in that.

Armin wasn't the same person as he was before, and he'd never be the same again. He had blood on his hands now, and he was slowly growing to accept it, slowly letting go of the guilt. Armin would never be "clean" ever again, and maybe - just maybe - he was fine with that.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm getting discharged tomorrow (hopefully) so I really hope that'll help with the motivation to write. Again, ideas are appreciated! I don't really like this work either but whatever. Fuck it, life's too short to ponder stupid shit like "should I post this fic or is it too horrible and badly written and rushed?".
> 
> Thank you for reading! Any type of support is, as always, very much appreciated <3


End file.
